


rhythm we started

by dansunedisco



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: (kind of), Anal Fingering, Anxious Stiles Stilinski, Bottom Derek, Established Relationship, First Time, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-15
Updated: 2014-12-15
Packaged: 2018-03-01 13:48:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2775290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dansunedisco/pseuds/dansunedisco
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>"Tell me if I hurt you."</i>
</p><p>Bottom!Derek + worried!Stiles + first time. That's pretty much it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	rhythm we started

**Author's Note:**

> Started because some people just got my bottom!Derek feels going. D:
> 
> Originally posted [here on tumblr.](http://dansunedisco.tumblr.com/post/104445087338/walshings-dansunedisco-replied-to-your-post)

"Tell me if I hurt you." 

"Stiles," Derek snaps. He peeks over his shoulder, expression fond, if a little impatient. "You can’t. You won’t."

"But I might, so just—"

"You’ll know if you are. Trust me." Derek turns back around, sighing as he settles back into the pillow nest Stiles had made for him earlier. He’s on his stomach, relaxed from a sloppy blowjob, Stiles kneeling by his thighs. "You’re observant." 

Stiles huffs under his breath, though he’s secretly pleased. Derek’s blatant trust in him bolsters his confidence in ways watching porn (so much porn) and trolling through Reddit just didn’t. He needs it, too, as much as he can get. Because he’s about to finger Derek. Derek Hale, exonerated murder suspect, full wolf, grumpy dude who may or may not be his boyfriend now, and it’s exciting,  _but._ There’s always a but. Always a butt. Oh god,  _he’s about to finger Derek’s butt._

He swallows thickly, staring down at Derek’s perfect ass. It’s muscled, tanned, unblemished; two dimples on his lower back like he just stepped out of a GQ magazine—or a porn rag. If Stiles weren’t so ready to get on that (in that?), he’d be jealous that  _his_  ass didn’t look the same. For now, he’s just dealing with an alarmingly amount of arousal, and grappling with where to begin.

It takes a little while and lots and lots of lube to get there, but eventually he’s got one slippery finger in Derek, slowly pumping it in and out while his other hand is holding Derek’s cheek spread and open. It’s… it’s pretty fucking great. Derek’s breathing a little harder, back muscles rippling, hips twitching back and forth like he can’t decide if he wants to get away or get more. Stiles gives him more, thumb catching Derek’s rim, rubbing, until he’s relaxed enough to take one more finger. When Stiles fully presses two fingers in and in, Derek groans like he’s not expecting it and Stiles almost pulls out, except Derek’s tilting his hips up, humping back against Stiles’s hand. It’s a revelation. It’s a miracle. It’s an image he could happily die with.

Stiles twists his wrist, tries to change the angle for the better, rubs the pads of his fingers inside slick, silky heat, tongue poking out the corner of his mouth in deep, deep concentration and—Derek nearly  _howls_ when Stiles brushes something a little different.

Derek growls, inching up onto his elbows. “Don’t. Stop.” 

“Holy  _fuck_ ,” Stiles breathes. His dick is harder than it’s ever been, hands down, swear to god, and he hasn’t even touched himself yet. It’s just—god. Derek’s reactions are better than anything he’s ever seen on a laptop screen. He scoots back and sinks down, rubbing himself off shamelessly on the comforter. He’s half draped over Derek’s legs now, and the view is unbelievable. 

He kisses at Derek’s lower back, right on those dimples, and goes back into the rhythm they started.


End file.
